


Clary and her Figurehead

by foxymoley



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/F, Little Mermaid Elements, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23432485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymoley/pseuds/foxymoley
Summary: A retelling of the original Little Mermaid story in which Clary eschews a life above the waves and finds a beautiful ships figurehead in her cave of treasures.
Relationships: Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Hunter's Moon Fairy Tale Retelling





	Clary and her Figurehead

**Author's Note:**

> The Disney version is roughly the same up to the first wedding (sort of, minus the grisly bits and it's not Ursula, it's an innocent local princess). 
> 
> After the prince's wedding to the local princess, the mermaid's sisters bring her a knife that the Sea Witch has given them in exchange for their long hair. 
> 
> If she slays the prince with the knife and lets his blood drip on her feet, she will become a mermaid again, all her suffering will end and she will live out her full life under the sea.
> 
> She can't bring herself to kill the sleeping prince lying with his bride and as dawn breaks she throws herself into the sea. Her body dissolves into foam, but instead of ceasing to exist, she feels the warmth of the sun; she has turned into a spirit, a daughter of the air doomed to _earn _her way in to Heaven.__
> 
> _  
> _Fuck that._  
> _
> 
> _  
> _It's a patriarchal, misogynistic bunch of bullshit so Clary kills the Prince and dives overboard to live her best sapphic life…__  
>  (art at the end)

* * *

It was over a score of moons since Clary had killed the bastard Prince, nearly two score now. Arrogant prick and his whore wife, sleeping as newlyweds, flaunting their union on a ship, on her sea. 

Clary's family were kind to give up so much for the magic to get her tail back and, frankly, she was happy to pay part of the price herself. A dagger of whale bone stained in her former lover's blood? Easy. The woman was a bonus. 

She'd held the dagger in her teeth and stripped her gaudy handmaiden dress as she leapt from the side. The moment blood touched the ocean, the spell awoke and dragged her legs together—where they should have stayed, she lamented angrily—to bring back her beautiful, strong, wondrous tail. 

Her first inhale of salt water made her lightheaded, like she hadn't breathed in weeks and the bubbles streamed through her hair, sending a shiver from her scalp to her dorsal. Clary had grinned madly and weaved her way through shoals of fish. 

Clary swam languidly to her cave. Yes, she had missed her mother and brothers while she was gone but the cave was her quiet place. It was narrow but tall and opened up to reveal a patch of surface water. The sun would shine in, casting rays of light amongst the trinkets she collected from the sea bed and she would nap in the fluttering warmth. 

Today though, there lay a surprise. A large shape filled half the floor of the cave and she could scent wood in the water. Clary approached cautiously, weaving between the reeds and rocks to find…an idol. Truly the most beautiful thing she had seen must have dropped from the prow of a ship above, and landed as neatly as if it had grown there. Clary approached carefully, hand outstretched, and ran her fingertips along a sculpted face more beautiful than Amphitrite herself. 

"Be not afraid." 

Clary darted backwards, leaving the cave entirely, heart pounding. She lay panting against the rocks, turning to peer over her shoulder into the darkness. 

Her mother had always told her she too often let her curiosity get the better of her and now was no exception. "I'm not afraid," she lied into the stillness. 

"Help me." The figurehead was perfectly still yet a rich voice rang out, clear as the shallows. "Please…" 

Clary darted forward, already enamoured by the voice. "How?" Her mother also told her she was too soft. Too giving. She had learned the truth of that the hard way but compassion was sometimes a difficult habit to break. "What are you?" 

A soft chuckle moved the water subtly. "I am celestial light. Trapped in the heart of an ancient tree, torn from the land and whittled to a mere memory of what I once was or could be." 

Clary stared at the beautiful carving and wondered how anything could be more so. 

"Trapped? How can you be free? Tell me, I'll do it." She brushed the chipped paint that once adorned the oaken figure, glad that it was revealing something less human as it flaked away and drifted up. 

"Oh, maiden," the figure sighed and Clary wished how that were still true. "You wouldn't be so eager if you knew."

"I doubt it. My virtue is long gone but I hope one day you will tell me." The solid wood smiled without moving and Clary felt a warmth bloom from the very tip of her tail. "If you are to stay in my home, I should know your name."

"You may call me Isabelle."

* * *

It was during the darkest time of the cycle that the man died above them. Thrashing in his own blood and feeding a family of basking sharks. Clary was fascinated in the morbid way these things can be, watching sinew and flesh fail in its duty to keep the soul in. A deep sigh from her friend drew Clary's attention and she was shocked to discover her eyes drawn upwards too. The only movement she had witnessed in the weeks she had known her. 

"Isabelle! You looked!" Clary wove her tail in circles excitedly. "How?" 

"I still will not tell you, my sweet." Isabelle cast her eyes downward, her eyelashes fanning over her beautiful cheeks, and Clary found herself missing them immediately. 

* * *

The biggest change happened when Clary's father died. He was in the cave at the time, having followed her there one day and Valentine was berating her as usual, criticising her behaviour, questioning her loyalties. As far as Clary was concerned, he was but a thorn in her family's side, one that should be plucked out and disposed of.

Behind the vile man, was an outcrop adorned in trinkets collected from the sea. Isabelle had explained the use of each item, the way they were made and who had owned them. They were Clary's prizes, imbued with second hand sentiment and some of them were also sharp. She knew that a boar spear had lugs on it to stop an angry animal working it's way up the spear to attack its killer, she now knew how truly effective that could be. 

The blood settled and Clary dropped the spear. She wasn't upset, she had no regrets, she didn't really feel anything but shame. Not because she had killed again but because she had done it in front of Isabelle. The divine creature that called her sweet, kind and…pure.

She hid her face behind her tail, clutching it to herself for comfort. She peered around the fan and ducked through her hair to see her companion. Who was smiling, broadly. Isabelle's lovely face was animated and beaming proudly. 

"You did it! I hated how he treated you, how he was a blemish on your life, a barnacle of hate on your happiness. He's gone."

Clary darted forward and threw her arms around her angel's neck and Isabelle kissed her forehead, her cheek, anywhere she could reach. 

"It's life, isn't it? That will save you?" More paint flaked off as Isabelle nodded. "When a person dies, you become more free." Another nod, more garish color drifting up into the darkness. Clary grinned. "Well, dearest, I can help with that." 

* * *

Very occasionally a ship would pass overhead and Clary would swim to the surface, ducking behind sea foam and sneaking peeks at the sailors. She would listen to their songs and stories, watch how they treated each other. She would let merchants go by unhindered and small travelling groups would stay unaware of the merfolk. Pirates and war vessels, however? They were a different matter. 

Clary would swim close and single out a man, perhaps smoking that vile weed from the land, then hide in a gunport and sigh; whisper on the wind and giggle. The man would always lean over the railing, and without fail, he would let his libido drag him over the side into the dark sea, and with no exception, he would find his watery grave.

* * *

With each soul, Isabelle grew more free. More beautiful by the life. With each soul, Clary grew more brave. More in love by the life. 

* * *

Eight cycles passed, eight short moons until Clary could feel the shudder in the water that foretold a great storm. She grinned and Isabelle laughed softly. 

"What do you plan, my darling?" 

"I cannot plan a storm but I can make use of it." She winked and shot to the surface. Scanning the quickly darkening horizon she spotted a smudge of red. The blood sails of a pirate vessel. Perfect. She dove and swam full speed towards it and as she neared she flicked her tail above the waves, she splashed in the choppy waters and sang loudly. A shout from above told her she had captured their attention and she smiled, tossing her hair. The boom swung and the ship slowly turned toward her as she swam slowly home, flashing her tail. 

The storm hit with perfect timing and Clary ran a tender hand over the saltwater smoothness of Izzy's wooden hair. 

"Don't worry, my love, we'll soon have enough." She smiled darkly, "That ship is over a hundred souls strong."


End file.
